


Family Over Fate

by glacis



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glacis/pseuds/glacis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin chooses family over fate.  Obi-Wan makes a few startling discoveries.  Padme has fun.  Babies are mentioned, but not dwelt upon.  There's a LOT of sex, plus some alien physiology technobabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Over Fate

Family over Fate by glacis.  An AU ending to Revenge of the Sith and a testament to how much I don’t like Vader and do love Obi-Wan, mixed with a whole bottle of a lovely Pinot Grigio.  I’ve taken some liberties with the timeline of Episode III.  Notes and !**Warnings**! at the **end** of the story.

 

He knew it was going to be a bad day before he even got up.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was getting pretty damned tired of Darth Dooku tossing him around like a youngling’s doll.  It was bad enough when he was barely a Knight and Anakin was still a Padawan… now that he was a full Master it was getting embarrassing.

He also hated waking up from a fight only to find himself dangling hundreds of meters up an elevator shaft hanging on to Anakin like a baby leaper-monkey.  Wasn’t like it was the first time it happened, either.

“Did I miss something?”

Didn’t he often, since Anakin entered his life?

Still, they did manage to escape, eventually.  Even if it did take piloting a disintegrating battleship planet-side and even if Grievous did escape again.  At least they walked away from the landing, and the Chancellor survived.

Funny how that didn’t seem as encouraging as it should.  He really didn’t like Palpatine.  But Anakin did, and Padme did, and Obi-Wan could escape him, most of the time.  Like tonight, holed up in the back of the Senate cruiser with a contraband bottle of Corellian Greshya wine, and a damned good vintage at that.

“Master?”

Anakin popped his head through the door and Obi-Wan aborted his instinctive move to hide the wine.

“C’mon in, Anakin,” he invited expansively.  There was another bottle stashed beneath his bunk, and he called it to hand with a judicious application of the Force.  “Put the Chancellor to bed already?”

Anakin gave him a confused nod, a grin growing on his face.  He entered the cabin completely and, when the hatch closed behind him, leaned against it to stare down at his extremely relaxed master.  “Are you drunk?”

“Not yet, but soon,” Obi-Wan admitted hopefully.  “Join me?”

He tossed the second bottle to Anakin, who caught it one-handed and looked the label over, whistling soundlessly at the vintage and vintner.

“Not bad, Obi-Wan.”  He twisted off the foil cap and pulled the cork, sniffing appreciatively at the neck of the bottle.  “What’s the occasion?”

“You have, once again, saved my ass, Padawan-mine,” Obi-Wan said with sincerely affectionate appreciation.  “You deserve it.  And I am getting too old for this shit.”

Anakin snorted in disbelief and shook his head, summoning a glass and pouring a hefty measure of wine into it.  “Nonsense, Obi-Wan.  You’re not that old.”

“It’s not the chronology, it’s the battle damage,” Obi-Wan sighed.  Ignoring Anakin’s offer of a glass, he continued to drink as he had been, directly from the bottle.

Taking a deep drink and licking his lips appreciatively, Anakin stared long and hard at his master before crossing the cabin and sinking down on the edge of the bunk.  “What’s this about, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan glanced up at him, then back down at his bottle.  “We made it through in one piece.  Senate’ll be happy, Council’ll be happy, everybody’ll be happy…”  He trailed off and took another, quite large, gulp of wine.

Concerned now, Anakin leaned over and put his hand over Obi-Wan’s on the now nearly-empty bottle.  “You don’t sound happy.”

Bright hazel eyes caught and held his.  They held an amazing depth of pain, some fresh, some old and embedded in his soul.  “Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “I think I’ve forgotten what that feels like.”

Moving on instinct, what Obi-Wan would have called ‘feeling the Force’ if Obi-Wan wasn’t drunk nearly off his ass, Anakin drank the last of his wine and carefully placed his glass out of the way.  Then he gathered Obi-Wan up in his arms and hugged him tightly.

“Nearly lost you today,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s hair, only now allowing himself to feel the fear the mid-combat adrenaline overpowered.

There were two people in his life he could say he loved; Padme and Obi-Wan.  With the way the war was going, as thinly as the Jedi were stretched, he had an ever-present fear that one day he would lose the man who was closer to him than any brother could be.

Anakin didn’t like to lose.  Anything, or anyone.

“S’okay,” Obi-Wan whispered against Anakin’s throat, pushed there by the iron grip on his shoulders.  “Everything’s all right, Ani, s’all all right…”  His hands were petting slowly up and down Anakin’s back in a movement no doubt intended to be comforting.

Whether it was the near loss, the hefty glass of very strong wine, or simply the fact that it had been much too long since he’d held Padme this way, Anakin found himself responding in a wholly inappropriate way.

Being Anakin, instead of containing, controlling and releasing his passion into the Force, he followed his instincts.  He wound his real hand into Obi-Wan’s thick hair, pulled his master’s head back far enough to reach, and kissed him.

Obi-Wan tasted of grapes and peaches, tart and sweet to Anakin’s tongue.  It took a long enjoyable moment of exploration before Anakin realized that, not only was Obi-Wan not fighting the kiss, he was actively participating.

Sweet, indeed.

The rest of the evening was rather blurry.  Anakin knew there was more wine involved, and from early on in the proceedings there was nudity.  There were many, many kisses, slow and fast and deep and teasing, on mouths and chests and shoulders, on cocks and bellies and the small of Obi-Wan’s back.  The last one was right before he curled up behind Obi-Wan and eased into him, the soft-sweet-gentle curve of Padme’s memory blending into the hard-sweet-strong curve of Obi-Wan’s reality.

Obi-Wan never completely hardened under his touch, no doubt due to the wine, or perhaps, judging by the tear tracks on his cheeks, and the barely-heard whisper of Qui-Gon’s name, it was the depth of a memory to strong to overcome.  When Anakin finished, he stroked his hand soothingly over Obi-Wan’s skin, lending his master his warmth against the cold of that loss, and fell asleep still joined to him.

When he awoke the next morning, he was hard again, still buried in Obi-Wan’s body.  His conscience told him he should withdraw, should leave Obi-Wan his dignity, but the hot hold around him convinced him otherwise, and when Obi-Wan woke, it was to Anakin moving within him again.

This time Obi-Wan did get hard, and Anakin moved his hand firmly over that hot length, biting gently at the juncture of neck and shoulder beneath his mouth as Obi-Wan bit his own fist to keep from crying out when he came.  The shudders that caused pulled Anakin to his own completion, his cry muffled on his master’s flesh.

They lay together for some time, breath and pulse gradually slowing, until Anakin gingerly pulled from Obi-Wan’s body, prompting a slight hiss of pain from Obi-Wan and a bone-shaking shudder from Anakin.  Anakin hugged Obi-Wan tightly and asked quietly, directly into his ear, “Are you all right?”

The breath tickled Obi-Wan, and he shivered, then he gave a short, rueful laugh.  “Yes, Anakin,” he answered, his voice reassuring, “I’m fine.  Yourself?”

“Good,” Anakin told him, enjoying the shiver for a moment before reluctantly letting Obi-Wan escape his embrace.  “Very good.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at him, wincing slightly as his weight came solidly down before shifting to one hip.  Then he did something Anakin hadn’t seen in years.  He blushed.

Anakin couldn’t help it.  He chuckled, then leaned forward and kissed Obi-Wan on the nose.  “You look like an initiate caught with his hand in the candy box.”

Grinning himself, Obi-Wan shook his head.  “Feel a little like it too.”  Abruptly sobering, he gestured down at their nude bodies, legs still tangled together.  “Really, though, are you all right with this?”

Replying with the seriousness the question begged, Anakin said, “Yes.  No advantage was taken unfairly here, unless perhaps it was me taking advantage of you.  I’ve never seen you put away that much wine at one time, Obi-Wan!”

Pulling further away, Obi-Wan gathered the blanket around them both to give a semblance of modesty, late though it was.  “We’ve never been on a mission together during this time since you’ve been a Knight, Anakin.”

It took but a moment’s thought for Anakin to get the reference.  It was the fifteenth anniversary of Qui-Gon’s death.  Reacting to the pain in that thought and the answering pain in Obi-Wan’s heart, Anakin leaned forward and kissed Obi-Wan very gently.  It was a comforting kiss, not a passionate one, and Obi-Wan sank into it for a long moment before they both pulled away.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said gently, not clarifying just what it was he was thanking Anakin for, and not needing to, as Anakin could read it in his eyes.

“It was my pleasure,” he assured Obi-Wan seriously, then smiled sweetly at him.  Breaking the solemnity of the moment before it overwhelmed them both, he quipped, “First dibs on the shower!” then scrambled off the bunk and headed for the sonics without waiting for a response.

Obi-Wan’s laughter followed him out of the room.

That night was not spoken of again, by either of them, for several weeks.  Anakin was distracted by other things, Padme’s pregnancy, Palpatine’s plans, the Council’s distrust, and Obi-Wan…

 

The news that Grievous had been discovered was good, even if the source was suspect.  Obi-Wan hadn’t wanted to ask Anakin to spy on his good friend the Supreme Chancellor, but something was rotten in the Senate leadership and Anakin was their best chance to find out what.

The war plans and political intrigue should have been enough to keep him busy, but Obi-Wan found himself fighting his own body as well.  Always fit, physically able to fight through pain, injury and illness, at least until he could collapse or be tossed into a bacta tank by the healers, he ignored the warning signs as minor inconveniences.

Fatigue, easily explained away by too much combat, too many politicians to appease, and not enough time spent immersed in the Living Force, hard to find as it was on Coruscant.  Nausea, particularly when he first woke, probably due to too much rich food at the myriad of diplomatic receptions, or the last remnants of a virus from the last swampy battleground he’d fought on and the last muddy hill he’d slept on.  The occasional bout of dizziness, never when doing his katas or engaged in combat, but late at night, or mid-day, no doubt simply low blood sugar, since he hadn’t felt much like eating lately.

When he passed out on the way up the ramp into his cruiser as he was trying to fly to Utapau to track down Grievous, he could no longer ignore it.  The healers wouldn’t let him.

Particularly when his first action upon waking in the infirmary was to roll over and vomit over the side of the cot.  Healer Padawan Mrawmner was NOT happy.  Well, it wasn’t as if he’d aimed for her, after all.

Sequestered in the Healing Wing of the Temple, he didn’t hear much of what was going on.  He was too busy dealing with a horde of healers swamping him with every test he’d ever heard of and quite a few that were new to him.  Eventually they listened to him long enough to allow him a precious moment’s time with a comm link; rather than calling Anakin as he’d really like, he dutifully called the Council.

Master Yaddle answered the comm.  “Master Kenobi.  Good to see you it is.  Feeling better, are you?”

“Master, I’m sorry about-“ he began, but atypically she cut him off.

“All right, it will be, Obi-Wan.  Concentrate on getting better, you must.  Off to face General Grievous has gone Master Gallia.”  Her head turned and she spoke to someone off-screen, too quietly for Obi-Wan to hear her words.  When she turned back to face him, she looked unusually stressed.  “Leave you I must,” she told him gently.  “Listen to your healers, you will.”

“Yes, master,” he responded, barely getting the words out before she cut the transmission.  That worried him.  Something important was happening, and he had a bad feeling about it, but he couldn’t do a damned thing to help while he was flat on his back in the infirmary.

Before he could call for a healer and see about escaping, er, being released from care, Master Healer Brid came in.  His normally cheerful deep silver face was a study in conflict, his mouth frowning, his eyes excited, his ear stalks laid back in concern; not signs that Obi-Wan would be escaping the healers any time soon.

“What is it, Master?” Obi-Wan asked with trepidation.  “A virus?  A biological attack? Some sort of poisoning?”  He wouldn’t put it past Palpatine.

“Nothing of the sort, Master Kenobi,” Brid assured him, “quite the opposite, really.  Natural, well, in a way, in the way of life, if not particularly under these circumstances, but then the Force does work in mysterious ways…”  Brid paused, running his long, articulated hand stalks vaguely in the air before Obi-Wan’s increasing glare encouraged him to get to the point.

“You’re pregnant,” he blurted, then looked apologetic.

Obi-Wan waited a moment for the punch line, then responded, “You’re delusional.”

Brid managed to look both firm and affronted at the same time.  “I assure you, Master Kenobi, we have run the tests… several times… as this is… unusual… in the extreme…”

His voice trailed off into silence and he looked at Obi-Wan with a vaguely lost expression.  It was nothing compared to how at-sea Obi-Wan felt.

“I’m male.”

He tried pointing out the obvious.  Brid shifted nervously, hand stalks fluttering faster.

“No uterus,” he added.  Brid shook his head.

“Not quite,” Brid told him.  “Your planet of origin is Nadel, correct?”

Not waiting for Obi-Wan’s mystified nod, he swept on.  “Nadelese include four sexes: male, female, intersexual or hermaphroditic and intrasexual, commonly referred to as asexual, although that’s a bit of a misnomer, as intrasexual beings are also capable of sexual intercourse, desire, and sexual reproduction.  As your humanoid subspecies developed, the third and fourth sexes became less common, due to lack of genetic variation, overwhelmed by the wider genetic output of the larger populations of male and female Nadelese, but they did not disappear completely.

“Asexual reproduction by the intrasexual Nadel is a form of apomixis, only rather than reproducing using a seed, it uses a fetus within a protective pod.  It could, in effect, both bud and blossom, but the offspring is essentially identical to the parent.  As the asexual population could not adapt as well to a changing environment or evolve defenses against new diseases, it was at risk of extinction.

“Many asexually reproducing organisms are therefore capable of reproducing sexually as well, including the Nadelese fourth sex, and they did, cross-breeding with the male and female Nadelese.  Over time, the capability for asexual reproduction became dormant and secondary sexual characteristics were used to classify the fourth sex as dominantly male or female.”

Obi-Wan wondered if he’d actually been hit with a brick to the head or if it was just an over-abundance of healer tech-speak.  “I, er, have a uterus?”  He would have laughed, except that Brid was nodding.

“You are not exactly male,” he pointed out.

Obi-Wan was completely unable to stop himself from checking to make sure his penis was still intact.

“Well, you do have secondary male characteristics,” he clarified.

Obi-Wan kept his hands from wrapping comfortingly around his penis and covering his testicles by sheer will power.

“However, approximately eight weeks ago there was an infusion of sperm and a jump in the midichlorian count in your bloodstream.  This combination, in effect, awakened your reproductive capability and induced pregnancy at that time.  The fetus is a hybrid, secondary parental characteristics unclear though no doubt tied to the influx of midichlorians, and it is viable, in fact, quite healthy.  It is growing at a normal rate for your sub-species and you should give birth-”

Obi-Wan didn’t hear any more.  He fainted again.  His last thought before the world went dark was, ‘I’m going to kill Anakin.’

 

The next evening, Anakin returned from Chancellor Palpatine’s quarters in a state of panicked confusion.  He confronted Master Windu with the evidence that the Chancellor was, in fact, the Sith Lord for whom they’d been searching for years, then waited at the Temple with increasing frustration as Mace and his hand-picked Knights went to arrest Palpatine.  Mace said, if Anakin stayed at the Temple, then Mace would finally trust him, something Anakin had been waiting and working for years to hear.  But the waiting was unbearable.

His thin patience finally snapped and he whirled on his heel to run from the Council chamber and follow Mace.  On his way out the door he nearly ran over one of the people he least expected to see.

“Master?” he asked in shock, stopping an inch from plowing into Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Obi-Wan, who was supposed to be fighting Grievous on Utapau.  Was this yet another indication of how little they trusted him?  That they would call his master to baby-sit and ensure he followed their commands?

Barely noticing Obi-Wan’s unusual pallor and the unexpectedly bright fever in the eyes staring up at him in his anger, Anakin went to brush by just as Obi-Wan said, “Anakin, we have to talk!”

“Later,” he started to say, but Obi-Wan stood like a rock in his way.  As Anakin made to go around him, Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin’s left hand and planted it over his abdomen.

The jolt of consciousness that went through him threw Anakin off balance.  Unable to completely stop his forward momentum, anchored by Obi-Wan’s firm hand holding his against that foreign beat of life, Anakin ended up standing behind Obi-Wan, his left arm wrapped around Obi-Wan’s waist to keep his left hand where it was, his cybernetic right arm wrapping around Obi-Wan’s chest to keep his balance.

Already emotionally unstable from the tensions of the day, he was unprepared for his body’s physical reaction to Obi-Wan’s closeness.  The scent rising from his hair, his skin, the silkiness of his beard beneath Anakin’s cheek, the solid strength of his body pressed full-length against Anakin from his chest to his feet.  Feeling light-headed, Anakin dipped his head and nuzzled past the folds of material at the base of the side of Obi-Wan’s neck until he could lick the soft warm skin there.

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s moan shake him where his back rested against Anakin’s chest.  Obi-Wan’s pulse was strong and a little fast under his mouth, echoed by the beat of life thrumming under his left hand; echoed, but not by Obi-Wan; there was a third life there.

Dimly over the rush of blood in his head he heard Obi-Wan say, “I’m pregnant.”

More words came then, something about midichlorians and dormant physiology and hybrid something or other, but the sheer unreality of the last several days, from his nightmares to Palpatine’s Sith identity to this surreal miracle, was submerged by the rising tide of lust.  His body and his Force attunement reacted to Obi-Wan’s with the force of a tidal wave and he gave no resistance.  Given the rapidly rising erection below the warm place where his hand rested, Obi-Wan was similarly affected.

This, at least, he understood.  The rest they could sort out later.

Standing in the center of the Council Chamber, Anakin deftly pulled the fastenings of Obi-Wan’s tunics apart, licking and sucking his neck and shoulder as he did.  Obi-Wan was babbling still, less about the baby and more about, well, wanting more, as Anakin slowly stripped him, holding him up with one arm as the other explored his skin.

It hadn’t been an illusion; Obi-Wan’s hair was silkier, even the thick curls on his chest were softer, flattening in sworls under Anakin’s fingers as he caressed the breadth of Obi-Wan’s chest.  Anakin plucked gently at a nipple, the resultant surge of sensation through Obi-Wan’s nerves rippling through the Force between them and causing Anakin to catch his breath.  That was more sensitive, too.

His hand dipped to the closure of Obi-Wan’s trousers, and he easily pulled them open, sliding his fingers into them to protect the erection now straining against the material as he urged the pants and leggings down.  Obi-Wan was panting now, hips rocking back against Anakin’s still-clothed cock, torturing them both.  Anakin rubbed his hand soothingly over Obi-Wan’s belly where the Force warmth proclaimed their miracle, then further down his abdomen, giving the hard length there a single stroke that nearly sent them both over the edge.

Not wanting things to end so quickly, aware of his own strength and deliberately gently his touch, Anakin avoided Obi-Wan’s straining cock and curved his hand over the heavy sac beneath it.  Even the wiry bush of hair at the base was silky, lying in curls that wrapped around his fingers, making him take care not to pull.

“Hormones…” Obi-Wan said, surprising Anakin, who hadn’t realized he’d been speaking aloud.  “Changes… healer called it budding…”

Anakin pressed his palm up behind Obi-Wan’s testicles, pressing gently between his thighs, and Obi-Wan yelped and spread his legs.

“Touchy,” Anakin murmured, tearing his hand away just long enough to reach between them and open his own pants, allowing his erection its freedom.

“Fuck,” Obi-Wan groaned, grinding down on Anakin’s palm.

Unsure and uncaring if that was an exclamation or an order, Anakin took it as direction.  Rubbing his cock up against Obi-Wan’s ass, rocking into the cleft, he stroked his hand up from between Obi-Wan’s thighs, over his balls, then the length of his cock, in one strong movement.  Obi-Wan shouted through clenched teeth, and Anakin did it again, this time adding a bite to the muscle running along the top of Obi-Wan’s shoulder.  Holding Obi-Wan with teeth and cybernetic arm, he then brought his hand up to the top of Obi-Wan’s erection and rubbed firmly, over and over, until, not long after he began his concentrated assault, Obi-Wan gave in and came.

It was a good thing Anakin was holding him up, because Obi-Wan’s knees gave as Anakin milked him gently until he was empty.  Then Anakin took them down to the floor in a Force-assisted fall, ending with his body curled around Obi-Wan’s, Obi-Wan’s head cushioned on Anakin’s shoulder, his hands wrapped tightly around Anakin’s cybernetic forearm.

Shifting his hips back just far enough to reach between them, Anakin gathered up the spill from Obi-Wan’s climax and used it to coat his own erection.  Moving slowly, with a tenderness he usually showed only with his wife, Anakin rocked into Obi-Wan’s body, tiny increments at a time, watching for any discomfort, both from the penetration and the pregnancy.  He’d done this with Padme several times, and found it oddly natural to do the same with Obi-Wan.

Looking down between them, Anakin found it unbelievably erotic that he was still completely dressed, except for the opening in his trousers where his cock thrust out, while Obi-Wan was wearing nothing but his own trousers, puddled around the ankles of his boots.  The black of Anakin’s clothing against the pale skin sent a shiver through him, provoking an answering shudder from Obi-Wan.  They were so connected through the Force that every sensation one felt was echoed in the other.  It was unlike any sexual encounter he’d ever had, with anyone else.

He couldn’t get as deep into Obi-Wan from this position as he could from others, but that was just as well.  He didn’t thrust hard, but he went slowly and steadily, eased in his advance by Obi-Wan’s complete relaxation from his intense orgasm.  Already stimulated by Obi-Wan’s reactions and the way Anakin had felt that climax through their connection through the Force, it didn’t take long before Anakin came as well.

They lay there together for some time afterward, Anakin petting Obi-Wan everywhere he could reach, Obi-Wan running his hands back and over Anakin’s flanks, up over his shoulders, turning to meet mouth to mouth in a touch that was somehow more than a kiss.

Eventually Anakin calmed enough to realize that he’d just fucked his master in the middle of the Council chambers while at any minute the single Council member who disliked him most might come back from slaying a Sith.  That thought galvanized him into gently withdrawing from Obi-Wan and disentangling their arms so that he could pull Obi-Wan’s trousers back up over his hips.  Obi-Wan tried to help, but his movements were slowed by exhaustion, and Anakin quickly stilled him with a whispered admonishment to let him do it.

It was a testament to just how tired Obi-Wan was that he let Anakin get away with it.  Moments later, Anakin had Obi-Wan dressed, then he gathered Obi-Wan up in his arms and, with a little lift from the Force, he carried Obi-Wan through the Temple to the landing pad where Padme’s cruiser was docked, taking care not to jostle him.

Stirring against his chest, Obi-Wan blinked up at him blearily.  “Where we going?” he slurred.

Anakin couldn’t help his grin.  Obi-Wan was ridiculously adorable when he was shagged out.  Then he sobered.  Shagged out and pregnant.  Which was why Anakin had to get him away.  They had to deal with this.  And they couldn’t do that if they were caught up in the aftermath of Master Windu’s Sith-hunt.

“Somewhere safe,” he murmured to Obi-Wan, then sent him to sleep with a light Force suggestion.  It didn’t take much.

After Anakin got Obi-Wan settled into the cruiser and launched toward their destination, he wondered aloud, “How in all the hells am I going to explain this to Padme?”

 

Far away from the personal drama being enacted at the Temple, Mace Windu and his team were having a terrible time subduing the Sith Lord.  Sidious was much more powerful than even the Council had expected, and a bloody battle had now drawn down to only the two, Windu and Sidious.

Letting his fear, pain, and grief flow into the Force, Windu fought as he had never fought before.  Mind, body and soul were united in a desperate attempt to bring down the Sith.  At the apex of the battle, feeling his strength diminish under the unrelenting storm of power coming from Sidious’ clawed hands, he cast his fate to the Force.

Whirling in place, allowing the power to wrap around him, Mace Windu brought up his light saber, still tangled in Dark Force energy, and deliberately collapsed onto the Sith’s body.  The unexpected move allowed the full punch of the Dark to streak through him, ripping his life from his body… but not before the deep purple blade sliced all the way through the Sith’s neck, separating his head from his body.

The ensuing explosion of Force energy shattered windows for several kilometers around the Senate complex, and dropped Force-sensitive beings in their tracks.  Windu didn’t feel a thing, as he was already one with the Force.

His duty was done.

Sex hot enough to melt the plastisteel on the floor of the Council Chamber hadn’t exactly been what Obi-Wan was expecting when he told Anakin about the baby, but he was too damned tired to wonder what caused the firestorm.  Anakin had stripped him down, pleasured him until he couldn’t move, then gathered him up and taken him from the Temple.  The next thing Obi-Wan knew, they were ensconced in Padme Amidala’s living quarters, just the two of them, and Anakin was fussing over him like a bird with one chick.

“Anakin,” he patiently explained for the third time, “I’m not chilled, I’m not thirsty, and if you try to tuck that blanket around me one more time I’m going to tear it in strips and use it to tie you up and throw you in the corner.”

The mental image of Anakin all tied up tripped his tongue for a moment.  He glanced over at Anakin and saw a tide of red flush from his neck all the way to his hairline, but judging by the somewhat feral smile on his face, his reaction wasn’t comprised solely of embarrassment.

Obi-Wan sighed.  Before he had the chance to say another word, Anakin jumped.  At the same moment, Obi-Wan felt a disturbance in the Force, one of great relief and great pain.  Loss and triumph.  It confused him.  He turned to Anakin to ask for the other man’s impression, but Anakin was already talking.

“That reminds me.  Who’s off fighting Grievous?” Anakin asked with the air of one determinedly avoiding the subject.

“Adi Gallia,” Obi-Wan answered.  He wasn’t sure if the subject Anakin was avoiding was the pregnancy, the recent sexual activities, or something else altogether.

“Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord,” Anakin then blurted, immediately clamping his jaws shut and looking appalled at himself.

“Shit!” Obi-Wan exclaimed involuntarily, then began to fight his way from the cocoon of blankets and soft pillows imprisoning him.

Anakin pressed him back on the cushions before he got very far.  “I told Master Windu, and he’s taken a squad of Knights over to take the Chancellor into custody.”

Sighing with relief, colored by a sad foreboding that things hadn’t gone so well for Mace, Obi-Wan asked, “How did you find out?”

“He tried to recruit me,” Anakin admitted.

Rage cut through Obi-Wan, and he snarled before he could prevent it.  “Over my dead body!” he barked.

Anakin gave him a startled look, which rapidly shifted into pleased and affectionate.  “Thank you, Master,” he said softly.

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to blush.  “Well, not that you would ever Turn, but the thought of him even trying…”  He breathed out carefully, releasing his hostility into the Force.  He didn’t notice the vaguely guilty look on Anakin’s face.  “Uhm, Anakin,” he continued, “why did you bring me here to Senator Amidala’s home?”

“Ah.”  Anakin’s gaze skittered away from Obi-Wan, bouncing off the window, the wall, the sculpture in the far corner, before becoming enraptured with the absolutely plain grey floor.  Obi-Wan watched silently, one eyebrow slowly climbing higher as he waited for Anakin to answer his question.  Eventually, abashed blue eyes flickered up to meet his then went back to stare down to the floor.  “We’re married.  She’s my wife.  She’s…”

“Pregnant,” Obi-Wan breathed.  Well.  Wasn’t that one for the odds-makers.

“I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to be forced to leave the Order,” Anakin rushed on, words streaming out as his confession fell between them.

From the pain behind the words Obi-Wan could tell his former Padawan had been tormented by this for some time.  Obi-Wan’s heart ached for him.  He also felt as if he’d failed him, that Anakin couldn’t come to him with this situation.  Putting aside his own guilt and shock, Obi-Wan leaned closer, one hand falling to rub Anakin’s shoulder comfortingly.

His voice easing somewhat, Anakin continued, “We were married five years ago, on Naboo after the battle with Dooku.  I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid… anyway, since we came back to Coruscant and I found out she was pregnant, I’ve been having these terrible nightmares, recurring dreams that she would die in childbirth.  They terrified me.”

“Oh, Anakin!”  Obi-Wan couldn’t stand the pain in Anakin’s voice.  He pulled Anakin’s left hand into both his own, sending strength and comfort to the young man through the Force.

“Palpatine was kind, so interested, and he drew me in.  Told me he knew of ways to make sure Padme survived, the baby survived, and the whole time it was a lie.  He was trying to Turn me, playing on my fear, preying on my anger at the Council’s lack of trust in me…”  Anakin’s voice trembled to a halt.

“He failed, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said softly but firmly.  “You have Light in you, strength to balance the anger, love to outweigh the fear.”

Anakin finally looked at him.  Obi-Wan caught his breath at the sheer intensity of emotion in those eyes.

“I have Padme, and I have you.  Without you both, I would have Fallen,” he admitted quietly.

“I will never believe that,” Obi-Wan told him promptly.

“Neither will I,” said a feminine voice from the doorway.

Anakin started, and Obi-Wan dropped his hand to lean sideways and peer around him.  Padme stood in the doorway, leaning against it, arms cradling her pregnancy-swollen belly.  Her shoulders slumped and there were shadows of fatigue on her face, but her eyes were luminous as she stared with love and trust at her husband.  Obi-Wan smiled.  He must have been blind not to see their joining.

“If you can’t yet trust yourself,” he told Anakin, “trust your wife and your old Master.”

Anakin made a sound suspiciously like a sob, and rose to embrace his wife.  Obi-Wan watched as Anakin led her to the wide chair opposite the couch and settled her into it, perching on the arm, keeping her hand clasped in his.

“I bring news,” Padme said quietly.

Obi-Wan lost his smile at the pain in her voice.  “What happened?”

“Padme?” asked Anakin.

She gave Obi-Wan a reassuring look then smiled briefly up at Anakin before her face regained its serious expression.  “We are safe.  Palpatine was killed in battle,” she told him, then looked back at Obi-Wan.  “He slew all five of the Knights and Masters who went to arrest him.  In his last moments, Master Windu sacrificed his own life to kill the Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan’s breath caught in his throat, and Anakin swore under his breath.

“Security cameras in the Chancellor’s office recorded the entire battle,” Padme continued.  “The Senate is in disarray.”  Anakin dropped a kiss to the top of her head and Padme squeezed his hand in grateful response for the support.  “The Jedi Council are in emergency meeting.  They’re looking for you both.”

Obi-Wan started to rise and was startled to feel a gentle Force push keep him in place.  He gave Anakin a look.

“No, Obi-Wan, not yet.”  Anakin was determined.  “First, we…”  His voice trailed off and he looked helplessly from Padme to Obi-Wan and back.

“Oh.”  Right.  That.  Obi-Wan swallowed.  A dry voice in the back of his head told him to hope that Padme wasn’t the jealous type.

“Is there something else we need to discuss?” Padme asked, suspicion coloring her voice.

“Yes,” Anakin said at the same time Obi-Wan said, “Er.”

Then Obi-Wan said, “Perhaps it would be best-” at the same time Anakin said, “Something came up and we…”  They fumbled their way to silence.

Padme looked back and forth between them then smiled, shaking her head.  “Anakin,” she said firmly, “what’s going on?”

“Obi-Wan’s pregnant.  By me.”  The blunt statements fell like bricks between the three, and Obi-Wan groaned.

Diplomacy had never been Anakin’s strong suite.  There was a reason Obi-Wan was called the Negotiator, while Anakin was the One Without Fear.

Padme laughed.  Then coughed.

“You’re serious.”  She sounded dazed.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath.  Perhaps if he treated this like a mission debriefing he could get through it before she ripped his head off.  As calmly as he could manage he said, “I’m Nadelese.  My physiology included the ability to reproduce but the organs were dormant.  Several weeks ago after Anakin and I rescued Chancellor Palpatine…”  He glanced up at Anakin, “That must have been a trap!”

Anakin nodded.  “He was working on me then, getting me to kill Dooku for him.”

Padme cleared her throat.  “Pregnant?” she prompted.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.  “We can talk about that later, Anakin,” he offered, then forced himself to look back at Padme, who was watching him with fascination, and something else he couldn’t quite identify.  Forging on, he continued, “The successful completion of that hazardous mission coincided with the anniversary of Qui-Gon’s death.”

Her eyes softened, sympathy shining from her, and Obi-Wan had to look away for a moment before he could continue.  “I drank a bit more than I really should have, and invited Anakin to join me.  Loneliness and understanding companionship were a potent combination, and we…”

“Had sex,” Anakin blurted again when Obi-Wan tried to find a delicate way to put it.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help himself.  He rolled his eyes.  Padme gave a choked laugh and waved at Obi-Wan to keep going.  Anakin blushed again, and muttered, “Sorry.”

“It was the first time we’d ever been intimate,” Obi-Wan tried to reassure Padme.  “I wasn’t aware that Anakin and you were married, but please know that he did not make a practice of breaking that vow.  He loves you with all his heart.”

She gave him an appreciative smile, and he went back to his explanation.  “As it turns out, unbeknownst to either of us, Anakin’s extremely high midichlorian concentration in his… bodily fluids…”  Damn, this was difficult.  Obi-Wan felt his color rise and plowed on, “interacted in an unexpected way with my dormant physiology, activating certain responses within my body that resulted in a viable hybrid fetus.  I was unaware of the situation until I was rendered incapable of performing my duties-”

“He passed out before he could get on the cruiser to go kill General Grievous,” Anakin inserted helpfully.  Obi-Wan glared at him and Padme stifled another laugh.  Anakin reddened further.  “Sorry,” he said again.

Manfully ignoring him, Obi-Wan growled, “At which time the healers discovered the pregnancy.  When I escaped… er, was able to leave the Healers’ Hall, I made my way to Anakin and informed him of the situation.”  He stopped abruptly.  There was no way he was going to tell Padme that he and Anakin—

“We had sex again,” Anakin said, his apparent compulsive confession-making not quite completed for the evening.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan yelped.

“Anakin!” Padme yelped.

Obi-Wan and Padme stared at each other.

“Sorry,” Anakin said very, very quietly.  “I’ll just shut up now.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan told him with exaggerated courtesy, certain at any moment his own face would explode from the sheer amount of blood rushing under his skin.  He’d never blushed so hard in his life.

Oddly enough, Padme didn’t appear insulted or angry.  If anything, she seemed… intrigued.  Obi-Wan shook off the thought and gritted his way through the rest of the explanation.  “Anakin brought me here.  He explained about Palpatine, about your marriage, and about his fears for your safety.”

“Obi-Wan!” yelped Anakin.

Padme and Obi-Wan both looked at Anakin, Obi-Wan with confusion and Padme with understanding.

“Is that what you’ve been so worked up about, love?” she asked gently.

Unable to speak, Anakin nodded his head miserably.

“You didn’t tell her either?” Obi-Wan asked.  That explained a lot.  When Anakin turned his miserable gaze on Obi-Wan he hastened to reassure the poor young man.  “It’s not all your fault, Anakin.  Palpatine was influencing you, trying to win you over.  He was no doubt clouding your mind.”  He paused and took a breath.  “However, we are going to have a talk about how much negative emotion you’ve been dealing with, how you left yourself open to attack, and my failure as both your friend and your Master to recognize your struggle and help you with it.  We all have something to learn from this, I think.”

“First things first,” Padme said, drawing Obi-Wan’s attention.  “What do we do about,” she gestured first at her own rounded abdomen then at Obi-Wan, “this?”

“They’re going to kick me out of the Order,” Anakin said dolefully.

Obi-Wan regarded them both thoughtfully.  “That would be a grave mistake,” he finally said, “and you’d not be alone if they did.”

“They wouldn’t kick you out,” Anakin argued.  “You had no way of knowing…”  He tripped over his tongue and blushed again, waving vaguely in the general direction of Obi-Wan’s mid-section.

“If they threw you out I would resign,” Obi-Wan said serenely.

Anakin gaped at him.  Padme beamed at him.  Obi-Wan shook his head.  “So we’d best make sure nothing so drastic occurs, eh?”

“How will we do that?” Anakin asked, sounding lost.

“We go to Naboo,”  Obi-Wan stated firmly.

“Yes!” Padme exclaimed, then added quickly, “why?  I mean I know why I want to, but what justification would you give for you and Anakin to go as well?”

“Palpatine,” Obi-Wan answered promptly.  “As you noted earlier, the Senate is in disarray.  The Council will have its hands full dealing with the rowdier elements to maintain order, as well as tracking down Grievous and the rest of the Trade Federation and droid separatist leaders.  I will volunteer Anakin and myself to go to Naboo to investigate Palpatine’s actions from his home base, to ensure no further Sith activity will undermine the Republic.”

Padme nodded approval as Anakin grinned at him.  “Sneaky, Master.  Do you think they’ll buy it?”

Obi-Wan grinned briefly at him in response before allowing his sadness to show.  “Master Yoda will.  Particularly once the healers tell him about… my condition.  The Council is scattered to the winds, and the loss of Master Windu and the others will preoccupy them for some time.  Once we’re on Naboo, I have no doubt we will find enough to investigate to keep us there at least until after Padme has successfully delivered.”

“Then what?” Anakin asked plaintively.  “It’s still forbidden-”

“One emergency at a time, Padawan,” Obi-Wan interrupted him.  “We’ll fight that battle when we come to it.”

Anakin subsided, and Obi-Wan fought his way out of the blankets.  Padme watched with amused sympathy as Anakin leapt to his side and solicitously helped him up.  The glare Obi-Wan gave him should have scorched his hide but Anakin was completely oblivious to it.

“Get used to it, Obi-Wan,” Padme told him, laughter in her voice.  “He’s got the instincts of a crèche master with one babe.”

“Two!” Obi-Wan interjected absently, then blushed again.

Padme laughed outright.  “Two, indeed!”

As soon as Obi-Wan was on his feet, Anakin bounced over to Padme’s side and ‘helped’ her rise as well.  Given that she was far more advanced in her pregnancy, his assistance was actually helpful and she smiled up at him before turning to Obi-Wan.

“Shall we leave you to sweet-talk the Council then, Obi-Wan?”

He grinned at her.  “If you don’t hear from me by morning, send in reinforcements.”

She laughed again.  “I will.”

Then she drew Anakin out the door with her as she left.  Obi-Wan watched them leave, eyes meeting Anakin’s for a long moment before the door closed behind them.  It was a complex and tangled web they’d woven, but after that conversation, he had hopes they’d come out of it intact.

Clearing his mind and centering himself, releasing his lingering anxieties into the Force, Obi-Wan opened a channel to the Council and set himself to the most delicate negotiation of his career.

Thanks to circumstances, Master Yoda’s machinations, and a report from Master Healer Brid he didn’t find out about until long after the fact, Obi-Wan was successful.  As soon as the conversation was completed they would be on their way to Naboo.

 

Anakin didn’t know what it was that prompted him to spill his guts to Padme, in as much detail as Obi-Wan would allow.  Perhaps it was the Force, or perhaps it was his close escape from unwittingly becoming a Sith, but the need to be honest about absolutely everything was strong on his soul.

So when Padme pulled him aside and said, “I want to watch,” he looked at her in rampant disbelief and replied, “You want Obi-Wan?!” with all the jealousy roiling around in his heart.

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.  “I want to watch him with YOU.”

The smile on her face could only be described as lascivious anticipation.  Anakin blinked.  Blinked again.  Shifted his weight from one foot to the other to ease the sudden tightness in his groin at the thought that his wife was aroused by the thought of watching him have sex with his master.

Then he thought of his wife actually watching him having sex with his master and he moaned out loud.  Then fought for his composure and asked, “You would bring Obi-Wan into our bed?”

“I want to watch you as you take him,” she whispered, sidling close and breathing against his ear, doing nothing to his abate his rapidly-growing arousal.  “I want to watch as he takes you, and feel you take me with him deep inside you.”

Anakin bit off another moan and reached down to grab his testicles through his pants so he didn’t come in them.  Padme’s hand curled around his and worked to loosen his fingers.  He couldn’t tear his eyes from the fire burning in hers.

“I want to kiss you as he licks me, as you ride him.  I want to watch him suck you until you quiver with need.  I want to touch your flesh as it enters his body.”

Biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood, Anakin gave up the fight and jolted once, twice, leaving a mess inside his trousers.  He grimaced, then jolted again as Padme slipped her hand past his into the waistband and dipped down, swiping her fingers through the fluid there then withdrawing them and licking them slowly clean.  Anakin shuddered again.

Padme rested her now-clean hand on his chest and leaned up to kiss him, licking away the blood from his bitten lip.

When he got control of his mouth again he conceded, “Yes.”

Padme grinned wickedly up at him.  “I think we’re all going to enjoy Naboo.”

Dazedly, Anakin followed her into the bedroom to pack, and decided she really did have a point.

 

By shortly after midnight, the ship was ready.  It wasn’t a long journey to Naboo, but Obi-Wan was still exhausted, and spent most of it sleeping.  When he was awake, he read up on the files Master Healer Brid had sent him, preparatory to briefing a natal physician upon arrival in Naboo.

Anakin spent most of his time in the cockpit, but didn’t seem to be avoiding Obi-Wan.  In fact, Padme spent most of her time with him there, and Obi-Wan courteously avoided listening in on their conversations, particularly after one vivid time when he nearly walked in on Padme, in the co-pilot’s seat, with Anakin standing in front of her as she fellated him.  With enthusiasm.

Obi-Wan backed out as silently as he’d entered, then spent a good few minutes dealing with his own enthusiasm.

Thankfully, Padme also seemed comfortable with Obi-Wan’s presence.  He’d sent a few questing tendrils out to gauge her mood, and if anything, she seemed quite cheerful.  It puzzled him, with all the upheaval surrounding them, that she would be happy, but he didn’t question it.  Pregnancy could cause unexpected shifts in mood and temperament, as he was beginning to attest personally, and as long as she was content, he would not push.

So he rested, attained a peace with the idea of a life growing within him, and tried his best to ignore the odd noises coming from the cockpit at irregular intervals… as he tried to purge his desire to add his own noise to the combined cacophony.

 

“Oh god,” Anakin groaned softly as Padme’s tongue slowly cleaned him.  “He saw us.”

He couldn’t deny the surge of arousal he’d felt when he’d sensed Obi-Wan peering into the cabin as he and Padme were otherwise engaged.  The surprised arousal he’d felt flowing from Obi-Wan had, in fact, triggered his own orgasm.  He drew back and sank down beside Padme, his knees shaky.

She leaned over and kissed him, sharing his taste with him, then drew back and licked her lips.  “Sexy, isn’t it?” she purred.

Anakin nodded helplessly.

“Think how much better it can get…” she whispered, and Anakin hardened all over again.

Between his wife and his master, he wasn’t sure he could handle all this intensity.  He grinned, and gently pushed his wife back against the seat, carefully running his hand up between her thighs and leaning forward to nuzzle her breast.  Enjoying her answering moan, he decided it would certainly be fun trying.

 

Life settled into an easy rhythm once they landed in Naboo.  With an entourage of healers, the planet’s highest ranked natal physician, servants, bodyguards and clerks, the household took up residence at the Lakeside Palace, Padme’s favorite place.

Anakin and Obi-Wan busied themselves with investigations, updating the Council as needed, although in all honesty what was left of the Council was busy rebuilding and mopping up the last of the insurgency, easy enough to do since Adi Gallia had killed Grievous and Yoda had arrested the few living leaders of the Trade Federation and Droid Alliance.

Well, they investigated, Anakin nagged, and Obi-Wan rested.

The second day they were on-planet, Padme came to Obi-Wan and sat beside him, waiting for him to finish an entry on his log before taking his hand.  He smiled encouragingly at her.

“May I help you with something, Padme?” he asked.

She nodded seriously, then reached up, caught his head by the thick hair at the back, pulled him sideways and devoured his mouth.

Obi-Wan was so shocked he dropped his comm unit.  It never hit the floor, as Anakin caught it before it could impact.  As his mouth and his attention were fully occupied by Padme, Obi-Wan didn’t even notice Anakin had arrived.

Gently but firmly disentangling from Padme’s hold, Obi-Wan gasped in a breath and protested, “You can’t do this to Anakin!”

“She’s doing it **for** me,” a deep voice rumbled in his ear.

Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin.  “Anakin?”

“Mmm,” Anakin purred against his neck, making him shiver.

Obi-Wan stared, wide-eyed, at Padme, who was watching him with an expression akin to a carnivore examining a prime catch.  He gulped.  “Padme?  Anakin?”  His voice was a thin thread of sound.

“Join us,” Anakin invited, and Padme added, “Please.”

Then she was kissing him again, and Anakin was nibbling on the side of his neck, and somehow his clothes were off, and surreality didn’t begin to cover it.

Several hours later, Obi-Wan lay sprawled under a sleeping Anakin.  Less than six inches away from them slept a sated Padme.  Obi-Wan felt as if he’d competed in a day-long saber competition, and lost, complete with melted bones and multiple bruises, only without the scorch marks.

Although from the way they’d touched him, he wasn’t too sure about that, either.

That set the tone for the days to come.  Productive work on the investigation led to dismantling several Sith traps and disengaging an over-arching conspiracy that, given time, would have taken down the Republic and destroyed the Jedi even without the active participation of the Sith Lord.

The Council was satisfied with Obi-Wan and Anakin’s work, and left them alone on Naboo.  More importantly, perhaps, with so many senior Knights and Masters lost in battle, some of the more stringent strictures of the Code were being loosened.  Neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin need worry they’d be leaving the Order.  The Jedi needed them too much to chance losing them.

The nights were filled with the three of them, discovering new ways to become one.

Two months and a handful of days after they arrived, Padme gave birth.

To twins.

Anakin was at her side, breathing with her, sending her Force energy to sooth her and support her.  Obi-Wan was at Anakin’s back, steadying him with strong hands, stabilizing both Padme and Anakin as they were swept together in the maelstrom of emotion and effort.

The medidroid handed the first baby, a girl, to Obi-Wan, who handed her to Anakin, who showed her off to Padme proudly.

“Leia,” Padme sighed, then grimaced and pushed again.  The medidroid then handed the second child, a boy, to Obi-Wan.

When he went to hand the boy to Anakin, Anakin shook his head with a smile and moved over so Obi-Wan could stand at his side and present the boy to Padme.  She smiled at both of them and said quietly, “Luke.”

The babies were perfect.  Padme came through the birth as easily as possible, and healed quickly.  Obi-Wan tried to efface himself and give the parents time alone together, but Anakin wouldn’t have it.

“You’re as much a part of this family as any of us,” he insisted, and when Padme leant her own support to the argument, Obi-Wan gave in.

He spent the last few months of his own pregnancy dividing his time equally between joining Anakin and Padme in bed, continuing his investigations, and pampering the babies.  As Padme strengthened, her passion and ability to express it surged, and many a warm night was whiled away touching and sharing as the three of them made love.  The further Obi-Wan progressed, the less active he became, and the pattern of their lovemaking shifted to include him as it had included Padme in the last months of her pregnancy.

Whether it was Padme’s soft hands on his cock as Anakin moved inside her, or Anakin gently taking him as Obi-Wan brought Padme to completion with his hands and mouth, it didn’t matter.  It worked, and worked well, and they were happy.

Morning would find them content together, Anakin curled around Obi-Wan and Padme a few inches away, as she was a restless sleeper and didn’t like to be held in her sleep.  Lazy afternoons would find them cuddled in a pile on the bed or on soft cushions in one of the rooms, idly talking or quietly reading, strengthening the bonds that held them together until they were unbreakable.

Nine weeks after the twins were born, the natal physician came to Obi-Wan and prepared him for birth.  Given his unusual physiology, Obi-Wan didn’t give birth to a live infant, but rather to a pod-like organism that contained the still-developing infant.  Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the pod was larger than it should have been, and he spent several hours enduring labor pain.

Obi-Wan lay curled on his side, releasing the pain into the Force with Anakin’s help.  Anakin hadn’t left his side since labor was induced, and Padme kept very busy, between checking on her own babies, taking care of Anakin, and watching over Obi-Wan.  Two medidroids were on hand for emergencies, but the natal physician, having been thoroughly briefed by Master Healer Brid over the months, actually delivered the pod.

By the third hour, Obi-Wan had augmented releasing the pain to the Force with a steady stream of Huttese curses that made Anakin blush.

“What are you saying?” Padme asked.  Obi-Wan was too distracted to answer, and too busy cursing as well.  “Anakin?”  Anakin blushed and shrugged helplessly.

“It’s pretty filthy,” he answered, sending out another wave of Force to help Obi-Wan ride the latest pains out.  “I don’t think there’s actually a Standard translation for most of it.  Oh, that one hurt,” he sympathized, wincing down at Obi-Wan.

“No fucking shit,” Obi-Wan ground out distinctly, then went back to swearing in Huttese.

Padme made it out the door before she started laughing.  It was a near thing.  It was just so strange to see Obi-Wan so disconcerted by anything, other than passion.

Back in the birthing room, the physician finally managed to ease the pod out and placed it carefully in the prepared incubation chamber.  The infant would continue to mature for another month or so, then the pod would curl open and the infant would be released.  While the general health of the infant could be determined, and both Anakin and Obi-Wan could attest to the strong Force signature within the pod, the filaments surrounding the infant precluded any deeper testing.

So it was a bit of a shock when the pod finally did open.

 

After delivering the pod, Obi-Wan put himself into a healing trance, and Anakin strengthened it, only allowing him out for food and necessary ablutions.  Eight days later Obi-Wan awoke, completely healed, pain-free, relieved, hungry, and incredibly horny.

Anakin hadn’t realized the whole time he’d been feeding Obi-Wan Force energy, he’d also been feeding him the simmering arousal that never ceased stirring between the three of them.  Being unable to act on it for several days had left Obi-Wan nearly frantic.

Padme was the first recipient of his enthusiasm.  When she came to check on him, she placed her hand comfortingly on his forehead, rousing him from a light sleep.  He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her palm then licking his way up her fingers.

“Ooh,” she sighed, moving closer.  “Anakin,” she raised her voice slightly to be heard over the sounds of Obi-Wan stripping off her robe and pulling her onto the bed, “you might want to be here for this.  Oh!”

The startled yelp at the end came when Obi-Wan Force-lifted her to the head of the bed and dove down between her legs.  The man was insanely talented with his tongue, and what the silky beard did to her inner thighs was so good it was probably illegal.

“Padme, are you all—oh, yeah.”  Anakin came into the room at a trot then stopped in his tracks and watched, entranced.  Padme gestured imperially at him, and he obeyed with alacrity, stripping as he crossed the room.

Padme spread her legs as far as she could get them and stroked her hands across Obi-Wan’s shoulders then up through his hair, trying to find enough vocabulary to direct Anakin to join the fun.  Thankfully for her, given that the best vocalization she could give was a whimpering cry, Anakin didn’t need any direction.

Obi-Wan’s loose bed robe easily stripped off as Anakin came up behind him on the bed.  From there it was the work of a moment to adjust Obi-Wan’s position so that Anakin could kneel between his knees.  Knowing how tender Obi-Wan was, given his recent exertions, and how tight he would be due to the recent thorough healing, Anakin took his time preparing him, stroking and rubbing him until Obi-Wan was thrusting back against his hand, moaning deep into Padme’s flesh.  Padme signified her own approval of the moaning by arching against Obi-Wan’s mouth and coming.

Anakin eased into Obi-Wan’s body, shuddering at the heat surrounding him, then leaned forward to catch Padme’s mouth with his own.  Caught between them, Obi-Wan rocked back against Anakin and kept up his ministrations to Padme, prolonging her orgasm until she was keening from the working of his hands and tongue against and into her.  Her sounds and the feel of Obi-Wan around him enflamed Anakin, speeding his thrusts, and it would have been over much too soon if Anakin hadn’t suddenly gotten an idea.  Stopping completely, he withdrew slowly, ignoring Obi-Wan’s muffled protests.

“Ease up, love,” Anakin told Padme, helping her lift on her shaky knees.  He then urged Obi-Wan over onto his back.  “This way I can reach you both,” he told them.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and Padme gave an evil grin, reaching down to caress Obi-Wan’s face, fingers tracing the stickiness on his beard.  Anakin lifted Obi-Wan’s knees and canted his body upward, sliding in again, causing Obi-Wan to groan just as Padme lowered herself down within reach of his tongue.  The ripple that caused echoed through all three of them.

As Anakin thrust evenly into Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan went back to work between Padme’s thighs, and Padme reached forward to stroke Obi-Wan’s heavy cock, causing him to shake between them.  It didn’t take long for the intensity to rise to an unsustainable level, and soon Obi-Wan convulsed, spasming under Padme’s hand.  She leaned forward to catch the spill in her mouth, rubbing her tongue over the head of his cock, and Obi-Wan screamed into her, spurring her to clamp her thighs against his head and rock into his mouth.  Anakin reacted to the sudden tightening around his cock by arching his back and letting loose with his own orgasm.

When their senses returned, they were piled together in a heap, Obi-Wan curled against Anakin’s left side, an arm crossing Anakin’s chest and a leg caught between Anakin’s thighs, Padme lying sprawled with her head on Anakin’s right shoulder and her fingers laced together with Obi-Wan’s.

They began as they meant to go on.

 

Twenty four days later Obi-Wan, Anakin and Padme stood around the incubation chamber staring with fascination as the pod Obi-Wan had delivered began to unfold.  Over the days the filaments of the pod had softened and thinned, and it was possible to make out baby-shaped lumps, but they were still unable to see any details.

So when the segments of the pod split and folded back, they were completely taken aback to see twin boys, arms wrapped around one another, sleeping peacefully side by side on the remains of the pod.

They were perfect, with patches of reddish-blond hair on top their heads, little cleft chins and little fingers and toes clenching and relaxing in sleep.  Obi-Wan looked over to see absolutely doting expressions on both Anakin’s and Padme’s faces, and had to shake his head.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” he asked.

Anakin and Padme looked at him, shaking their heads.

“Leia’s going to rule them all with an iron fist.”

Padme beamed at him.  “I have no doubt!”

Anakin looked from the twins up to Obi-Wan.  “No wonder it hurt so much.  And you cussed so much.”

Obi-Wan scowled at him.  “I don’t remember that part,” he informed Anakin haughtily, as Padme laughed out loud.  “All I remember is waking up a few days later to you two.”  His scowl changed to a grin, and Anakin laughed back at him.

“So what are you going to name them?” Padme asked.

Obi-Wan looked from the babies to Padme then to Anakin.  “I knew it would be a boy, given the result of apomixis, but wasn’t expecting two.  I’d planned on naming him… Djin.”

Padme’s eyes grew soft and Anakin drew a deep breath.

“But I haven’t the faintest idea what to name the second one,” Obi-Wan admitted ruefully.

“How about…”  Anakin paused and cleared his throat.  “In honor of the one who removed the threat of the Sith from our lives, how about Mace?”

Obi-Wan could feel the sincerity in Anakin’s words, and knowing how Anakin had felt about Mace Windu, and vice versa, for so long, the suggestion was even more heartwarming.  “I’d like that,” he said quietly.

“Mace and Djin Kenobi,” Padme said, reaching down to gently raise the babies one at a time and hand them to Obi-Wan, “welcome home.”

For the first time in years, with a bundle of warm sleeping baby in each arm, with Padme beaming at him and Anakin wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Obi-Wan truly felt as if he was home.  It wasn’t the fate he’d expected, but it was one he’d take, and gladly.

FIN

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Mpreg (!) Hetsex Threesome AU  
> Character death (not Obi-Wan or Anakin)  
> Notes: Nadel is taken from 'nadle', the term for two-spirited persons in Navajo culture. Nadles are the third sex, a non-binary, non-Western concept that I really appreciate.  
> Apomixis is the form of asexual reproduction used by plants (there's a reason Obi-Wan birthed a pod… he budded!)


End file.
